


Hot and Heavy Love Clashes in Dustbowl

by tofubbq



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Don't Take This Seriously Please, M/M, Not Serious, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofubbq/pseuds/tofubbq
Summary: The Medic goes looking for love in all of the wrong places.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance.

Hearing the Medic gasp in pain behind him, the Heavy turned around in time to see the doctor collapse to his knees.

"Go on without me" his eyes seem to say. His breathing was ragged and uneven; he was unable to even form the words himself. The Heavy already knew what to do.

He whipped out his thick, moist sandvich out of his pants. With the delicacy of an elephant playing a harp, he coaxed the health giving sandvich into his Medic's mouth. Invigorated with new life, the Medic leapt back to his feet, only to be greeted with the sight of his Heavy falling to the ground at his feet. Behind up, a too familiar, suited man stood, a knife in hand.

"Did you forget about me?"

The Medic had.

Just as quickly as he had came, the Spy disappeared into the the morning air, leaving behind only dust and the anguished doctor. He could do nothing but kneel beside the Heavy and hold his arm. Mostly because the Heavy was too heavy for him to pick up and cradle in his loving arms, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he was in distress. Without a Heavy for him to heal, what kind of Medic was he? He was vulnerable, weak, and afraid. He had nowhere left to go.

"Heavy..." His tears fell, staining the Heavy's biceps.

"Doctor... you did good..." The Heavy whispered in a hoarse, low voice. The kind of voice that made the Medic tremble with excitement. The Heavy was still alive, but barely. In his last moments, he took ahold of the Medic's hand and squeezed. Alas, is was a death grip that ended with the Medic's arm breaking. 

It was a shame, too, because the Scout in the distance had been screaming "MEDIC" for the past five minutes, and now he no longer had anyone on the team to heal him as their Engineer had gone away from his keyboard to make some macaroni and cheese.

Will the Medic ever find true love, with his beloved Heavy now dead, his life claimed by the enemy Spy? Or would he persevere, and get revenge?


	2. Chapter 2

That would not be the final love endeavor for the poor Medic. As soon as he finally freed himself from the Heavy's loving death grip, he was paid a visit by the one he loathed the most to see - the Spy.

"You!" He shouted, pointing with one arm as he had cut off the other one in order to free himself. "You DID this! You will PAY!"

"Pay? In what, affections?" The Spy sneered as he stepped up close to the Medic, invading his personal space. Even with his crime still unpunished, the German could not deny that the man's accent was quite... spicy and French. Swooning, he nearly fainted and would've fallen to the ground had the Spy not caught him in his arms. His arms, that were still bloodied from his earlier stabbing.

"Mon cheri... you look a little... steamy there." The Spy whispered in his ear. "Are you alright?" His face was close to the Medic's, almost touching. His lips parted, and the Medic could smell the omelette du fromage on his hot breath.

The loud sound of a drum interrupted their heated interaction.

"VOTE STARTED: KICK MEDIC AND SPY FOR IDLING"

There was a symphony of key smashes as everyone pressed F1. The two soon to be lovebirds were kicked from their server.

Somewhere else on the map, the Heavy finally respawned, and looked around confused. Where had his Medic gone?

Meanwhile, the Engineer's macaroni and cheese finally finished cooking. The Scout finally got his wish of a shiny new dispenser. Sadly, he was headshot by a camping Sniper before he could reach it in time. Truly, another tragedy in the Dustbowl.


	3. Chapter 3

The Medic entered the server, a new and determined man. He would not be a single, hard working man - no, he was adamant on his new goal in life. He was going to find a caring father to help him look after his dove children. With his Medigun clasped tightly in his glove clad hands, he set out into the new world. 

He looked around for his team mates, and potentially new boyfriend. He caught sight of a Heavy - a formidable, visually attractive beast of a man, but the Medic was not going to fall for that same mistake instead. No, he was going to go for someone else. After all, he only deserved the very best.

He walked by the Russian, but as he did, he caught sight of something lying on the ground. It was a plate. But that wasn't the most significant part - it was what was on the plate that was truly interesting. Oh yes, those two pieces of bread, wrapping moist, wet ham in a tight embrace as lettuce poked out from between its meaty folds - it was so beautiful, the Medic almost cried at the sight. How could he resist a perfect specimen, with such a perfect, shapely body? His mouth watered, and his palms grew sweaty. His knees were weak - and it wasn't for mom's spaghetti.

The Medic got to his knees and took off his gloves, ready to manhandle his new partner, preferably into his wet, waiting mouth. Just as he reached out to make contact with the sandvich on the ground, it disappeared from his sight. He sat there, mouth agape, as he watched a blur flash by him.

"WOOHOOHOO!" Their team's Scout shouted, the sandvich now stuffed in his tiny Bostonian mouth. His puny 124 points of health was now elevated to a whopping, staggering 125 points as the Medic's chances with love decreased.

It was going to be another drought in the desert that was the Medic's love life.


End file.
